Responding to Notes like a Pro

A little while back, I thought about notes on this blog. And I've been thinking about them again. In particular, I have been thinking about how writers respond to them. And how they should respond to them.

It is fashionable to laugh at people who give you notes, ignore or challenge them. Especially when there are stupid or come from a talentless exec or chinless script editor. And it's funny when Rob Long talks about it. But he's sucked up his fair amount of notes in his time, and written episodes of Cheers. So he gets to talk like that.

So how does the young writer respond to notes? Learn the mechanics of writing is one thing. But what's etiquette. How does it work?

I've been a script editor on a several series of radio and a few series of children's TV - and given a fair amount of notes, as well as being on the receiving end of them. Before a few specifics, here are a few general points.

Bear in mind this. The script writer wants the same thing as you: a funny show. He (or she) doesn't want to make the show worse. And he (or she - you get the idea) doesn't want you to remove good jokes. He wants you to remove bad jokes, or cut things that get in the way of the jokes. Or streamline things that are confusing. Or ensure that everyone's motivation is clear and defined. He may be wrong about some of these things, but not all of them. So assume he's write about some of them. Maybe even most of them.

The script editor doesn't just want the show do be funny. He wants the script to be ready as fast as possible, so we all get to go home early. When I'm reading sketches or episodes of things, I want to be able to say 'Yup. All good.', and close the file, go home and watch the Test Match, just as much as you do. If the script isn't right, it's more work for me. I'm only going to give a note on something if it needs fixing.

The script editor is busy. He may be editing multiple episodes. CBeebies do runs of 26. (Hey, it's like working on an American show!) I may make a mistake in your notes. I may remember something incorrectly. This may be the ninth script I've fed back on today. So if the notes are little non-sensical, or contain errors or contradictions, try cutting them some slack.

If they don't find a joke funny, they can't help that.

And if you're going to be a writer of any kind, be it for TV, radio, film or books, you'll get notes. Get used to it - and remember that most notes make things better.

So here are a few of specifics:
Don't give notes on the notes. You don't need to go through them all on the email and say whether you agree or disagree with them - or give the lines a backstory. I'll go further. Don't do that. It's really annoying. Don't defend lines or bits with non-specific lines like 'You told me to cut that bit but I really like it. I don't know why. Just feels right.' Just read the notes and act on them.

Ignore some of the notes, if you know what you're doing. But think twice before ignoring a note completely, because there's probably something in it. Even the silliest most deranged note (like 'Hey, could the hero die on page 1?') is worth considering. A script is a moving, mushy thing. Nothing is set in stone until it's actually broadcast and out there. At least try it their way, even if you end up switching it back.

Don't crow. It's quite likely that a script editor will suggest something after draft 1, and then suggest removing after draft 3. He's forgotten that it was his idea. But then, he's read 2 drafts of 25 scripts since he gave that note, so maybe he's forgotten? Cut him some slack and don't make him feel like an idiot. When he's dishing out extra commissions, he might remember your notes on his notes and decide to go with someone else.

Do question notes, politely. Do say 'I'm confused by this note, because...' or 'I'm struggling with which way to go on this. We've talked about two ways and I'm still not clear why you favour the second option... etc.' A dialogue for clarification is fine.

There's lots more than can be said constructively in this area. I'd love to hear your experience of giving and receiving of notes. If you keep it good-natured, polite and professional, there aren't usually any problems. But you may prove me wrong...

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Advice like this and much else besides can be found in Writing That Sitcom, which walks you through the whole process of going from idea to script and beyond.

Available as an ebook for Kindle & Kindle App. Or as a PDF here.

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It's beautifully specific and brutally honest." - Jasmine

Too Many Notes

The venerable Sam Bain has written a very helpful blog about giving and receiving notes here. I agree very much with what he's written, and can add my tuppence to anyone who cares to listen.

It's worth thinking about why receiving notes is so painful. There are a few reasons that spring to mind. The first is that writing a script is an emotional process. The script is like an offspring that bears one's own DNA. Your characters are almost like children. It's impossible to receive criticism of one's offspring and not take it personally. Any attack on them stings.

The second is a more pragmatic source of pain. When the notes get going, and you realise there are problems to be fixed, you know that this is going to mean work. Cutting, editing, losing your favourite jokes and scenes, and thinking of something new, original, clever, funny and suitable to go in their place. This will take hours. And you know that these new scenes and lines in themselves will be subject to further notes.

These two things lead to grumpiness - and can easily tip over into resentment, especially if you're not impressed with the script editor's credentials. I personally find it hard to take notes from producers and script editors who haven't made any comedies that I really like or respect. (It is worth pointing out that you need to be careful not to believe every note you are given.) But in general, one needs to just suck it up and judge each note on its merit, not on the CV of the note-giver, and consider if there's anything in it. There usually is. Even the silliest or most spiteful criticism has a grain of truth at the centre. Most notes are not silly or spiteful, so listening to them really shouldn't be all that hard.

So what I have to do is remember one thing - that every rewrite makes the script better. Draft 1 is always a messy over-written jumble. The notes help draft 2 to be a more focussed bit of writing that still needs a good kicking. Draft 3 should be in decent shape, but still needs cutting down and punching up, so that Draft 4 is at least readable by actors. And then you do Draft 5.

It's easy to take your foot of the gas half-way through Draft 3 or 6, and start ignoring the notes, or assuming your cast will 'do something with that bit'. At that point, you need to remember a feeling you'll have in a few weeks time when the script is recorded in front of an audience, or broadcast on television - it's a little stab of disappointment of seeing your cast perform some lines of yours that you know in your heart of hearts aren't quite right and could be better. Remember that feeling. Take the notes. Put the hours in. Do it again. And again. And again. And again. If you don't, the biggest loser will be you.